Hatred PW
by Pistolwink
Summary: ME kink meme fill. Prompt was for an angsty Saren/MShep noncon encounter on Virmire, starting with their fight and ending with the Normandy crew rescuing Shepard.  This is a pretty messed up piece; includes heavy noncon, humiliation, language, & violence.


Story by Pistolwink. Obviously, Pistolwink neither owns these characters nor the world they interact with.

* * *

Their brief scuffle had angered him beyond belief. Shepard's words had been acerbic, somehow managing to cut straight down to the heart of his own fears concerning Sovereign. Indoctrination. And then the gall of this…this _human_. To accuse him of being so weak-willed as to have become indoctrinated and then, adding further insult, accusing him of being so narrow as to only have his own interests in mind? Only a stupid, naïve human would cook up such a ridiculous idea.

No. This _was_ for the good of the entire galaxy. _He_ could see through the veil of organics' petty emotions. _He_ would be their savior. And, if Shepard would be so impudent, so narcissistic as to stand in his way, he would _break_ him.

Shepard was there, in the water before him, desperately crawling on his hands and knees towards his flailing comrade. The human male…What was his name? It didn't matter. The only thing that did was Shepard. He was- as most Spectres were- defiant. Exhaustingly so. Infuriatingly so. Now was his chance- as Shepard's back was turned, Saren pounced on the opportunity, swooping in, seizing him around the neck with both talons, all while continuing his predatory stalk forward. Still, the fleshy creature struggled against him, a fiery rebelliousness in his eyes, coming dangerously close to igniting Saren's seething rage. Spirits, how satisfying the crunch would be if he just clenched his claws now, ending the upstart's little rampage. But no, he had to break him first. If he could not be brought to reason, then maybe…

Shepard could feel the nauseating pressure of the turian's thumbs crushing his windpipe. The sharp tips of the claws made him even more nervous- one motion from those deadly arms and his carotid and jugular would both be ripped from his throat and then it would be over. Instinctively, defiantly, he had grasped Saren's wrists in a desperate effort to pry them from his throat. God, what had he gotten himself into? The look on the turian's face was terrifying- not because of the glowing blue cybernetic eyes, or the relative lack of expressiveness they possessed, but because of how much fury he _could_ see in Saren's chitinous face and artificial eyes.

His vision was starting to get fuzzy at the edges, his heartbeat deafeningly loud in his ears as his neck muscles reflexively contracted, his body doing everything- anything- it could to get air. His legs kicked out, impacting the rogue Spectre's body weakly, and he felt himself shoved upwards, into the air. His kicks weren't connecting anymore. However, Saren was now grasping him with only one hand so he could breathe a little better.

Not that it mattered much, anyway.

Somehow, in the time that he had been struggling, Kaidan had managed to get to his feet and had started generating a mass effect field. Shepard's eyes darted over to him and he managed to draw enough air and forcefully expel it again in a sort of squawking shout.

"Go!" he managed. "Get…out…" His face was warm, feeling bloated. "That's…an order…" The last syllable was hardly more than a hissed croak. If Shepard didn't believe in a deity, he certainly entertained the existence of one then because even with his distraught expression, Alenko nodded and took off. Just as he had turn to run the siren started blaring, adding another hellish sound to the cacophony in Shepard's head. He'd much rather Kaidan save himself rather than die for a situation he could've done little about in his current physical condition. And if, Shepard figured, for some sick reason he somehow survived this clusterfuck, he'd make damn sure to reassure the Staff Lieutenant that he'd done the right thing.

The harsh cry of the alarm startled Saren and he caught a quick motion from the corner of his eye. Turning his head, expecting an ambush, he realized that the flash had just been the other human's escape.

Shepard spotted the opening and, using every ounce of strength he could muster, hauled back and slammed his fist towards the turian's head just as he had turned his face back towards his prey. The commander's fist connected with Saren's mandible with an anticlimactic smacking sound, but apparently transferred enough force to knock his opponent back. In his attempt to catch his balance, the hand around Shepard's throat loosened and he dropped to the ground.

With a vicious snarl, Saren pulled himself from the water and lunged toward Shepard again. The human was apparently somewhat dazed himself, as he had stood up but was merely rubbing his bruised throat. Saren grabbed him again, this time by the collar of his armor, and dragged him towards the geth platform he used to quickly get around. Shepard and his little crew of humans and human sympathizers may have managed to destroy his labs here on Virmire, but this was _not_ over and Shepard would _not_ win. The Spectre was still struggling, but Saren put him out with a hard blow to the nose before escaping the doomed complex.

* * *

Shepard woke up coughing and snorting, his nose clogged with dried and drying blood. Cringing, he lifted a hand to his aching face and checked his nose. It was there, but broken. Grumbling to himself, he reset it only to be rewarded with a nauseating crunch and a fresh gush of blood. He felt like shit- hadn't felt this bad in a while. As the blood from his abused nose hit the floor with a _plip, plip, plip_, he took the time to sit back and try and get his bearings. The only thing between his bare butt and the cold metal floor was a pair of cotton boxers. In fact, that was the only thing between him and anything. Not a pleasant place to wake up.

Where the hell was he? Where was his crew? The Normandy? He swallowed, his throat tight and dry. Saren? Had he been blown up in the blast? The last thing he remembered was fighting the giant bastard and clocking him across the face before being dragged…Somewhere. Then it all went dark. Next thing he knows, he's suffocating and gagging on a clot the size of Saren's stupid head and waking up like…this. Christ. Though the light was low, he could see enough to make out that he was in a cell, only about five feet by five feet, all metal. Why Saren hadn't just killed him, he couldn't figure; however, he knew that whatever the turian's reasoning was, it was not going to culminate in any sort of pleasant ending for him. A massive shadow suddenly blocked what little light was leaking into the cell and the door slid open.

Well, there was the answer to two of his questions- not the answer he had hoped for regarding Saren's fate, and the being he least wanted to see right now. Flanked on either side by geth troopers stood Saren himself.

As he was hauled to his feet and out of his cell by the synthetics, Saren lashed out a single talon, leaving a bloody line across Shepard's cheek. Shepard didn't even wince…He wouldn't give the sadistic bastard the pleasure, not from one stinging little scratch. He was thrown back against an interrogation chair and strapped in before the geth, in perfect unison, turned abruptly and left the small room with its bright lights. He was sure that they weren't too far away, possibly stationed on the other side of the door. Their probable location marked in his mind, he began to feel a throbbing headache setting on. Whether it was the slight scratching in the back of his mind or his sore, tired eyes attempting to adjust to the white light that shone in his face, he couldn't be sure.

"Shepard…" Saren purred- or was it a growl? "…So here we are."

The turian slunk around him behind his head, reappearing on Shepard's opposite side and roughly grabbed his chin with a clawed hand, thrusting his face into the human's. He was met only by a cold, hard stare.

Saren had interrogated and broken more than enough people to know that normal torture wouldn't work on Shepard. He'd have to resort to _other_ means. No matter; he had ways of making people whose resistance to physical pain was off the chart cooperate. First, he had to break Shepard's will, destroy him until there was nothing left but rubble. Then, from that rubble, he would build what he needed. It had happened to him when he had lost his brother in the war and now, here he was, more powerful than ever. Pausing for a second, he contemplated his next move.

Moving quickly and decisively, he acted on his plan of attack. He had already begun softening him by throwing him in that cell, stripped, unconscious and beaten bloody, and then by dragging him out into the blinding light of the interrogation room. He had gauged Shepard's malleability with the swipe of his talon, and now he would exploit his vulnerability. His geth arm shot out and hooked its claws under the waistband of Shepard's boxers, ripping them brutally from his hips. Shepard looked…Not quite shocked, but more than surprised. Interesting. He let the realization of what'd just happen sink in. Let it simmer under his skin. And the entire time, he'd stand there, staring, pointedly looking at his naked body. Before he became entirely accustomed to the idea, though, he'd have to make his next move.

Gradually, Shepard's stunned expression gave way to one of indignant rage. Oho. He didn't like this much, did he? Saren allowed himself the slight gape that was the turian equivalent of a human smile. Something in his stomach jumped a little- he hadn't gotten to toy with his prey like this for some time. The turian decided that violating his prisoner's personal space while he was strapped down would probably yield some satisfying results, and shoved his face close to Shepard's ear.

Shepard could feel the hot puff of breath on his ear and neck as Saren whispered something. He couldn't quite make it out, but the resonance of his captor's voice sent a chill down his spine. The bastard was enjoying this, and there wasn't a damned thing he could do about it. He was tired and sore and now he was beginning to feel humiliated as well. Great, just great. What the hell did this freak want, anyway? He was brought back to the present situation by a sharp pain on his nipple.

Saren's next weapon was humiliation. He knew that many species possessed nipples, that they were sensitive, and that many of those species utilized them in their sexual rituals. Shepard's reaction lent credence to his hunch that grabbing him there would cause a substantial amount of embarrassment.

It also sent a little thrill through Saren. Spirits, he'd enjoy putting the human through this. Little beads of alien, red blood appeared at the tips of his talons and as he released his grasp, he purred quietly, in his chest. Humans bled _so_ easily.

He seized the other in his claws, much in the same manner, rolling the hardened nub between his index finger and thumb, feeling some primal urge in his groin stir when the droplets of blood again appeared. This was hardly the first time he had become aroused due to torturing a subject- even a human one- and especially when he used the methods of breaking he was planning to use here. Being able to twist Shepard to his will was so _satisfying_. Whenever his cold blue eyes caught Shepard's, he would stare back for a moment with a burning hatred before glancing away.

Saren stepped away and tugged the armor shielding his groin away, freeing himself as he returned to the bruised man in the interrogation chair.

Shepard felt ice in his veins. So his enemy's plan wasn't to simply physically beat him up, but to _use_ him like this? There was an expression of mad glee on Saren's face as he started to pull…oh God, no. He swallowed hard, looked away, and closed his eyes. This wasn't happening; this _couldn't_ be happening…

_Shit!_

Shepard's eyes flew open as burning lines of fire tore down his side. Saren had raked the talons of his geth arm along Shepard's side, leaving raised welts that bled lightly. He tightened his grasp around himself and shuddered as a low growl escaped his throat. Here was his mortal enemy, the very embodiment of humanity's cocksure swagger onto the intergalactic stage. Prancing into the spotlight like they were _entitled_ to everything because they had what? Leapt into the nearest mass relay and believed themselves to have discovered the universe beyond their little solar system? Anger flared in his chest and he started pumping harder. Shepard wasn't _Shepard_; he was _humanity_. The whole damn species, and everything it represented. And _he_ would be the one to disgrace it, to flatten it to the ground, to show it exactly how much it was worth.

"Watch, vermin." Shepard had rolled his head to the other side, looking away again. He didn't respond to the command. Saren growled. "I told you to watch." No response- so it'd be force again, then. Talons sunk into the human's chin and dragged his face closer.

Shepard forced his eyes open and stared a blank stare, focusing beyond Saren's furious form- if he obeyed, maybe this would be over sooner rather than later. Maybe- just _maybe_- compliance would be the best way to escape this situation…No. He wasn't going to let this sick game of Saren's break him. A wave of nausea hit him as the enormous turian slapped him in the face. He glanced up, catching the toothy leer on Saren's face. The bastard was enjoying this.

When it was over for Saren, it had crept up on him and hit him unexpectedly. Whether it was the withering defiance in Shepard's eyes, the thrill of humiliating his enemy at such a visceral level, or a purely physical reaction due to the weakness of the flesh, he wasn't sure. He didn't particularly care; sex didn't bring him any pleasure anymore. What _did_, however, was the knowledge that his release would embody his disgust for Shepard and his kind, that it would demonstrate what worthless filth they were.

The degrading nature of the act was bad enough, and its meaning wasn't lost on Shepard. It wasn't the fact that he had been violated by another male, or an alien, but that it was the ultimate insult. Saren couldn't have made the impact more clear if he had voiced the message in words. For someone who seemed to hold his fellow turians in such high esteem, this…Shepard thought that even this would have been below him. There was no honor, no true victory. A vicious, primitive act carried out by someone who was himself unbalanced. Could it be that his words back on Virmire about Saren's indoctrination had touched a nerve?

Saren laughed, a cruel sound, as he got himself back together. He must've used his omni-tool to summon the geth back into the interrogation chamber; two synthetics roughly loosened the restraints, then hauled him off of the chair. Saren stood back, watching their actions with a predatory gaze, arms crossed, looking as though nothing out of the ordinary had just transpired. As the human was thrown into the cell, he had to put out his arms to avoid slamming his head on the back wall, and turned to see what sick plans they had for him now. Instead, the door slammed shut behind him and the bright light was switched off, leaving him in complete darkness. Even in the discomfort of this place, he curled up in a corner and attempted to sleep.

* * *

Saren stalked from the room. Shepard would break, with time. Meanwhile, he was going to leave him back in the bunker while he returned to Sovereign. There was no sign of the Normandy; his own people must've ditched him. He wasn't even triumphant about the capture of his enemy anymore; the old emptiness had returned, and though he wouldn't ever have consciously admitted it, Shepard's words regarding indoctrination ate away at him.

Shepard awoke to the walls and floor of his cell giving an unnerving shudder. Soon after, he could hear voices. To his relief, the first he recognized was that of Kaidan. He allowed a small sigh of relief to escape his lips. There was some clamoring around and then a few heavy crashes…It sounded like metal was being thrown around. Finally the door itself rattled before it was ripped off its hinges. There stood Wrex, Kaidan, and Dr. Chakwas. Shepard instinctively covered his bare groin, suddenly self-conscious in front of his teammates.

"Shepard!" The Staff Lieutenant practically yelled as he ran towards him. "What the hell happened?"

Chakwas immediately started medically evaluating him, and Wrex just looked at him, head slightly cocked with an eye fixed on him. "Cover up," he finally grumbled, throwing a blanket at Shepard, who quickly snatched it around himself, pointedly looking at the floor.

"I'm fine," he finally mumbled before attempting to stand. "Let's just get back to the Normandy." Chakwas looked like she was going to protest, but glanced quickly at the others and nodded her head. Alenko offered a hand, which Shepard gladly took, pulling himself to his feet.

That damn interrogation chair hadn't managed to be destroyed in the scuffle. As Shepard caught sight of it, he clenched the blanket closer to his cold body and shuddered. He wasn't sure if any of his crew noticed and if they did, he silently prayed that they chalked it up to his being cold.

Nobody spoke as they walked back to the ship. Everyone on board greeted the commander with relief, but he could barely bring himself to return anything more than a curt nod. He went straight to his quarters and turned on the shower to as hot as it would go.


End file.
